


Cherry Wine on a Summer Night

by Spiderlily_Writes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anxiety, Drinking, F/F, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Young Love, not underage though because Hilda's 18 and Flayn's like 1000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlily_Writes/pseuds/Spiderlily_Writes
Summary: Flayn is used to her birthday being overshadowed by Saint Cethleann's day, but Hilda is determined to make this one special and give her a couple of presents she won't soon forget.
Relationships: Flayn/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Cherry Wine on a Summer Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tansybells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/gifts).



> Hi all!! Just a fun, cute lil thing this time, to celebrate the birthday of my dear friend and ever dependable beta reader [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells)! I hope you enjoy.

_Whap_

Flayn sits up in bed with a start, looking blearily about her room to try to discern the origin of the sharp, aggressive noise that woke her.

_Whap_

There it is again! This time, though, she realizes that it’s the sound of something hitting her bedroom window. She takes the candle by the bed, breathes a tiny, controlled puff of flame to light it, and slides out from beneath her covers to pad across her floor. Her bare feet slap the stone tile clumsily; she’s never really been a quick riser, and her nightgown swishes around her as she goes.

She reaches the window and unlatches it, pushing it open with an ancient creak, just enough for her to poke her head out and look around for whatever it is that’s causing such a racket. Warm summer air blows into her chambers, and the scents and sounds of summer suffuse the room.

It’s a good thing that she’s been working on her situational awareness with Byleth, for she barely has time to duck and yelp in surprise as a small rock, about the side of the end of her finger, comes whirling through the now-open portal and smacks against the wall behind her. She stands back up, and looks down at the courtyard about twenty feet below, quickly identifying where it came from.

“Hilda!” she calls, as loud as she dares, for her father is asleep in the room right next to her own. “What are you doing down there? Why are you assailing me with pebbles?”

She isn’t angry, but she _is_ exceedingly confused. It’s not like Hilda to be up and doing…well, much of anything, really, and she can’t imagine that the middle of the night is somehow an exception to that rule.

“Hey, Flayn! Hey!” Hilda shouts, bright, enthusiastic, and having no such qualms about her volume as she waves. Flayn’s heart does an anxious somersault.

“Oh, no, Hilda, please be quiet!” Flayn pleads, pointing to the next window on the wall, about twenty feet to her left. “My brother will hear you!”

Hilda claps a hand over her mouth quickly, as though she can force her shouts back down her throat and un-yell them. She looks sheepish for a moment, pulls her hand away from her face, and when she speaks again, it is at a _much_ more reasonable level. “Sorry! Anyways, come outside! I have something for you!”

Flayn blinks in surprise. “Hilda, it is the middle of the night! While I am truly grateful for anything you may have brought me, can it not wait until morning?”

In the subtle light of the moon and stars, she can see Hilda shake her head. Her pink locks, down and flowing free out of their usual pigtails, bounce about her exaggeratedly. “Nope! It can’t! It’s a birthday present, and it’s not somethin’ I can give you with other people around!”

Something that Hilda cannot give her with other people around? Flayn swallows hard as she considers the possibilities, but she shoves such thoughts away. Surely, it’s something innocent enough, right?

She sighs, knowing Hilda well enough to know that she will not be easily dissuaded. Flayn has seen people try to convince Hilda to do things she doesn’t wish to do, and they would have an easier time trying to lift a brick-laden cart with one hand. “I…I will be down in just a few moments,” she relents, after considering it for a minute. “Let me locate my shoes.”

~❦~

After she sneaks past her father’s room—something she has actually done fairly often, whenever she is restless and cannot find sleep—she slips down the stairs of the building and out to the front door. It is not unguarded, per se, but Flayn has spoken to the soldiers who keep watch there to ensure she is able to come and go as she pleases without her father finding out. Flayn is ever thankful that they are able to see reason, and they understand that Seteth’s well-intentioned caution is more than a little bit restrictive. She nods to this evening’s guard as she passes, and he nods back at her, bidding her a good night.

Flayn bounds around the corner, not bothering to be quiet anymore as her feet are very effectively muffled by the grass, and finds Hilda leaning against the wall of the building, ever casual and relaxed. Her arms are crossed, and she has a bag with something heavy inside dangling lazily from one hand.

Despite the late hour of their meeting, Hilda is still pretty enough to make Flayn’s heart skip a beat. In her Golden Deer loungewear, with no makeup clearly visible, and her hair undone, she _still_ makes Flayn feel self-conscious in her frumpy old-lady nightgown and clear, obvious bedhead. She tries not to think very hard about it, but fails miserably as Hilda notices her arrival and gives her a smile that rivals the moon for its radiance.

“Flayn! Wow, you actually came down. I half-thought you were just saying that so I’d go away,” she teases, and Flayn blushes. She hopes the darkness hides most of the color in her face.

She harrumphs indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. “I would not lie to you, Hilda!” Flayn insists, and despite the fact that she’s teasing, it’s a truthful statement. While she is not incredibly close to Hilda—she would not presume to declare that she is Hilda’s best friend or any such thing—she has always liked the young woman quite a lot, and indeed, envied her ability to do what she wants, more or less whenever she wants. It is a sort of freedom that Flayn can almost taste in short bursts whenever they spend time together, and they have done so on more than one occasion.

And… of course, if she’s being honest with herself, Hilda is also very pretty. Flayn likes that quite a lot as well, and while she is certain that it is an extension of Hilda’s typical carefree nature, she also suspects that Hilda has engaged in _flirting_ with her on more than one occasion. She is one of very few people who does not fear her brother’s wrath too much to do so, it seems.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” Hilda says with a smile, raising one hand to beckon for her. “C’mon, go for a walk with me.”

“But…my present?” Flayn asks, looking pointedly at the bag in Hilda’s hand, then realizes how she sounds. “I-I do not wish to sound greedy!” she adds, quickly, waving her hands as if to dispel the idea. “I am merely very curious, that is all.”

Hilda rolls her eyes and her smile widens. “God, you’re so cute Flayn, I could just eat you up.” She winks as she says it, and Flayn’s blush deepens significantly. Yet more of that _flirting_! She never knows how to respond to it, but apparently her blush and brief attempts to stammer out a reply are sufficient.

Flayn has little choice but to follow as Hilda takes off in a trot toward the Officer’s Academy.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asks, when she manages to catch up to Hilda’s long-legged strides. “Am I allowed to know that much, at least?”

“Mmm. Officer’s Academy.” She giggles at Flayn’s obvious frustration when she groans. “Come on! Let it be a surprise. Don’t you like surprises?”

Flayn considers it for a moment, keeping pace with Hilda as she does. “I…suppose I am not against the idea of a surprise,” she decides, speaking slowly, and Hilda nods in approval.

Deciding to drop the subject, Flayn instead decides to take in the night around her. She’s been around for a very long time, seen more summer nights than anyone who appears to be four times her age, but they still manage to fill her with a certain magical wonder.

The sounds of insects chirping and churring mingle with the occasional hoot of an owl or cry of a bat; these weave together with the rustling of foliage and the soft rush of wind past her ears to craft a veritable symphony.

The stars and moon beam down upon them, granting enough light to see by, but not much beyond that. Shadows dance at Flayn’s periphery, and though she is not particularly scared of such things, they do lend to the air of mystery that surrounds them. The warmth of summer is pleasant, now that the scorching heat of daylight is behind them, and it wraps around the two women like a familiar blanket.

Flayn loves it. She loves that her birthday is during the summertime, for it makes the day feel that much more special.

They arrive at the Academy’s classroom hall, and although Flayn had been expecting Hilda to stop by one of those rooms to use one as a place that the two of them might relax in private, she is surprised when Hilda keeps walking. Instead, she continues past them and down the path to the dining hall, where she takes a hard right and slips between the hedges, into one of the several small courtyards that dot the Academy’s campus. Flayn ducks inside with her, pleased to be out of the open and away from any potential prying eyes, and Hilda leads her to a bench in the corner where two hedges meet.

The bench is…rather noticeably small, actually, and though there are larger ones available, Hilda seems to have chosen this one quite deliberately. Flayn can feel her leg brushing against Hilda’s through the fabric of her nightgown once they sit, and her heartbeat quickens slightly at the contact. She would swear that, in the quiet of the night, Hilda must be able to hear it pounding. Flayn stares up at the stars, trying very hard to calm herself and ignore the soft warmth of Hilda’s thigh next to her own.

Flayn, unfortunately, does not succeed. The contact is far too distracting, and when Hilda taps her on the knee to get her attention, Flayn nearly jumps clear out of her skin. “Yes, hello! I apologize, I was simply lost in thought, I did not mean to ignore you!” she says, far too quickly. Hilda looks at her quizzically.

“What are you apologizing for? You’re allowed to think about stuff. Just because I try to avoid it doesn’t mean _you_ have to,” Hilda says, a smile creeping onto her lips. Flayn cannot help but return it, ever amused by Hilda pretending to be more foolish than she is. Flayn _knows_ it to be pretend, too, for as much as Hilda would like people to believe she is nothing more than a silly airhead, Flayn has seen that there is far more to the young woman than that. It is one of the things Flayn loves about her the most.

“Thank you, Hilda, you are very kind.” Flayn is aware she sounds bashful, but it’s hard to help.

Hilda snorts. “Kind? I haven’t even given you your present yet, come on. I know you’re not _that_ easy to impress.”

Flayn giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. “Very well, Hilda. May I finally inquire as to what you have brought me for my birthday?”

“Oh you may inquire, but I may or may not show you,” Hilda teases. Flayn scowls, but it only lasts a moment before she breaks into another grin. “Alright, fine, I’m being mean. Here.”

Hilda takes the bag from where she’d laid it on the ground next to her and fishes out a dark glass bottle, about the side of her forearm. She also removes a small metal device, which Flayn recognizes as a corkscrew, which can only mean…

Flayn gasps. “Hilda! Is…is that a bottle of wine?” she asks, aghast. “Where did you get a bottle of wine, of all things?”

Her friend’s smile turns sly, mysterious. “I have my ways.”

Flayn stares at her. Hilda sighs.

“I swiped it from the dining hall, okay? Or…more like I talked one of the servants into swiping it for me. Look, they’re not going to miss it, and I know your brother has a lance up his ass, so I’m betting he’s never let you drink before. Am I right?” Hilda asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Squirming uncomfortably, Flayn shakes her head. “No, he…he has never felt comfortable with me consuming any alcoholic beverages. He insists that it is inappropriate.”

She lets that last sentence hang, with the implication that her age is what keeps Seteth from letting her drink. She is not lying explicitly, but in truth, there is no such reason. Her father simply believes that such things are below their people. Undignified. But Flayn has always been able to see people indulging in such things, and she _would_ be lying to say that she has never wished to join them. Such occasions always seem so joyful, and she has heard that such libations also have the ability to induce a state of mild disinhibition, and to reduce anxiety.

As Flayn looks at Hilda, rosy-cheeked and grinning, she cannot help but feel like a little less anxiety might be welcome, right about now.

Hilda pulls her from her thoughts. “Hey, Flayn, you still with me? You kinda zoned out for a minute.”

Flayn blinks. “Yes, I am here.”

“You seem like you’re thinking about a lot of stuff tonight. Getting older will do that, huh? I remember when I was your age…” Hilda says, wistfully, letting her eyes drift skyward. Flayn can’t help but giggle at the irony of the statement, but Hilda seems to believe that Flayn is simply laughing at her joke. She meets Flayn’s eye once more.

“So, do you want to try some? This is supposed to be a sweeter wine, I figured you wouldn’t want something bitter for your first drink.” Hilda explains, then seems to realize something, and quickly adds, “…but if you’re uncomfortable, you totally don’t have to! I don’t wanna push you to do anything you don’t want to do!”

She _is_ a little bit worried, true, but…she also wants to try this. She enjoys new experiences, and it’s something humans do, and what’s more, it was very thoughtful of Hilda to go to such lengths for her. So Flayn gathers up her courage and nods.

“I would very much like to try it, Hilda!” Flayn says, nervous excitement obvious in her voice. “But… I do not see any glasses. How will we drink it?”

“From the bottle, silly,” Hilda says, whipping out the corkscrew and pushing it into the top of the container, focusing on twisting it open. “It’s fine, I’m not sick or anything, and alcohol’s used for cleaning things, right? So the bottle’ll clean itself, probably.”

Flayn isn’t quite sure that’s how that works. She also considers that the bottle will be touching her lips, and then Hilda’s, and then her own again, and so on until the bottle is either empty or they decide they are finished. That…that is almost like a kiss. She fidgets, just thinking about it. True, their lips are not pressing together directly, so it isn’t _truly_ a kiss, but it’s very close to one!

She looks up at Hilda, who is still working the cork out of the top of the wine bottle. _Hilda_ doesn’t seem worried about that. She doesn’t seem to think it’s improper. And really, Hilda would know more about such things than her. So she pushes down those feelings, and once more focuses on trying to control the way her stomach flutters every time that accursed thigh of Hilda’s rubs up against her own.

The pop of the cork from the bottle is surprisingly loud, and it makes Flayn gasp in surprise. She turns to see Hilda looking at her triumphantly, corkscrew and cork held in one hand, open wine bottle in the other. “Took me a minute, but all that time I spend swinging an axe around is apparently good for my upper body strength.”

Upon a quick examination of Hilda’s biceps and a subsequent shiver as she imagines Hilda picking her up and carrying her away, Flayn would have to concur. Hilda holds the bottle out to Flayn. “Come on, first sip goes to the birthday girl.”

Flayn is hesitant as she reaches out to take the wine from Hilda, being very careful not to drop the bottle as she does. It doesn’t seem particularly fragile, for glass, but the last thing she needs is to drop her carefully procured birthday present all over the ground.

She looks down into the bottle, but she can’t see anything. That…makes sense, when Flayn thinks about it, as it’s dark outside and the bottle is quite darkly tinted, but the inability to see what is within still makes her just a little more nervous. The smell is heady, thick and sweet, like overripe cherries, and she swallows before looking back at Hilda.

“So I just…drink it? Do I need to do anything first?” Flayn asks, cautiously, and Hilda furrows her brow in confusion.

“What would you even do first? It’s just a drink, Flayn, you don’t have to like…cook it.”

Flayn purses her lips, looking back down at the bottle once more as though she expects it to bite her. Well. She told Hilda that she wanted to try it, and gosh darn it, she’s going to! She lifts the bottle to her lips, closes her eyes, and takes a long, deep pull of the liquid within.

She holds the bottle, sipping from it until she has a decent mouthful, and lowers it from her lips. Flayn swishes the wine around in her mouth for a moment, getting a good, thorough taste. It’s as sweet as it smells, possibly even sweeter, and though it does seem quite nice, there’s a little bit of a cloying taste that underlies the taste of cherry. She swallows, and the alcohol in the wine burns a little on the way down, which makes her cough a bit. Hilda pats her on the back, gingerly plucking the bottle from her hands.

“Whoa, easy Flayn, you didn’t have to take _that_ big of a drink right away! Are you okay?” Hilda asks, rubbing gentle circles on her back as she takes a deep breath to recover.

“Y-yes, I am well, thank you,” Flayn insists, though Hilda’s hand on her back is almost more than she can handle at the moment. “I…just wanted to ensure that I got a thorough taste, is all!”

Hilda chuckles. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you? Wow. Can’t relate.” The other woman raises the bottle to her lips and takes a swig that _has_ to be, easily, twice the size of Flayn’s. But she doesn’t react to it at all; Hilda swallows the wine, seemingly without even taking a moment to taste it. She sighs, pulling her hand away from Flayn’s back, which feels suddenly a little cold. “Wow, okay, not bad. I did pretty good, actually. Did you like it?”

Flayn nods enthusiastically. “Yes! The strong flavor was a little bit shocking at first, but it was really quite lovely! Thank you, Hilda. Now, when do I begin to feel drunk? I think I am prepared.”

Her friend blinks at her for a moment. “When do you…oh!” Hilda giggles, and the sound is music to Flayn’s ears. “That wasn’t nearly enough to get you drunk. Even at your size and weight, it’d probably take about half this bottle before you even felt fuzzy. It’s not very strong.”

“Oh. Very well.” Flayn fidgets nervously with the fabric of her nightgown. “M-might I have another drink?”

With a nod, Hilda passes the bottle back to her. “Yeah, totally, you’re the birthday girl. You get as much as you want.”

She takes it, and has yet another sip. This one is a bit smaller, and it goes down a little bit easier, now that she’s ready for the slight burn. Hilda gives her a thumbs-up. “Great! Much better, you’re a pro already.”

Flayn reddens. She does not know if a professional at drinking wine is something she would like to be, but she appreciates the compliment about her constitution. She passes the wine back to Hilda and sighs.

“Thank you for coming to see me this evening, Hilda,” she says, as Hilda takes another drink. “I am very appreciative. It is not often that I am able to properly celebrate my birthday, as…well you know that I share the date with Saint Cethleann’s Day. Sometimes it feels as though people are more concerned with that, than with me. Even my brother, and Lady Rhea.”

She turns to see Hilda looking at her strangely, and she suddenly feels a bit embarrassed. “Oh dear, I am sorry Hilda, that was probably not a very proper thing to say. Saint Cethleann’s Day is very important, and-“

“Oh jeez, Flayn,” Hilda interrupts, sounding nearly heartbroken. “That is like…one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard, I’m so sorry! And you’re so totally welcome for the wine and company! C’mere.”

And then, leaving Flayn absolutely stupefied, Hilda reaches out and wraps her in an unannounced and shockingly firm hug. She pulls Flayn close, one arm around her upper back, one against her lower, and she can feel the bottom of the wine bottle tapping against her lightly.

She can also feel certain… _parts_ of Hilda, pressing against her, and she feels the fluttering in her stomach intensify so much that it makes her dizzy, as though she might fall over if not for the support Hilda provides. The other woman is fully half soft curves, and half toned muscle, and the combination of those two against Flayn now is enough to make her head spin. That’s without even _considering_ the soft floral scent of Hilda’s bath soaps and perfume drifting up to Flayn in a combination more intoxicating than the wine could ever be.

Far too soon, Hilda lets go and leans away, and Flayn is positively breathless.

“O-oh, thank you Hilda, you are…very kind,” she stammers.

“No problem.” Hilda sounds stern, as though she’s daring Flayn to argue that it might, in fact, be a problem. “You deserve nothing but happiness and presents and hugs and kisses on your birthday. That’s how birthdays work! That’s the whole point of the damn things.”

Flayn feels her heart beat a little faster when Hilda mentions kisses. Perhaps it’s the wine making her bold, despite Hilda’s assurances; perhaps it’s the magic of the summer night around them. Flayn isn’t sure, but she decides it doesn’t matter. She speaks quietly, as though afraid that she will scare Hilda away if she gets any louder.

“Well. You have made me very happy. And you have given me a present. You gave me a hug, and…” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them to see Hilda watching her, transfixed, her lips slightly parted and her hands planted on the bench, as if for support.

And then Flayn loses her nerve. She can’t do it.

“…and we have been sharing the bottle of wine, which is almost like a kiss!” she finishes, somewhat lamely and with a forced smile to match.

But there’s something sharp in Hilda’s eyes. It’s a flash of recognition, of understanding. She just realized something; something that Flayn did not have the courage to say. It doesn’t matter that Flayn didn’t finish the sentence the way she had intended; Hilda got the message anyways, and Flayn’s heart goes from fast to stopped in an instant.

“That’s not a kiss, Flayn. It’s not even close,” Hilda says. There’s something about her voice, affected lightness, a levity that belies something deeper. Something beyond mere friendly conversation. Hilda’s words are the beginning of a game of chess that has had a long-foregone conclusion. They both know what the result will be; they need only to play the pieces. Flayn takes her turn.

“I…I wouldn’t know,” she breathes, still hesitant, still nervous, sounding very small to her own ears. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Hilda’s move.

“Do you…uh…want to?” she asks, and it sounds remarkably shy, compared to Hilda’s usual confidence and ease. “Because we can. I’d be okay with that.”

Flayn’s last turn. She finds herself leaning a little closer. “I would…like that very much.”

Hilda comes closer to meet her. Flayn closes her eyes.

Checkmate.

Hilda’s lips press to hers, gently, softly, warmly, with a certainty and solidity that Flayn cannot help but love. Her mouth is so soft, so pliant and perfect against Flayn’s own, and she feels as though she must be dreaming, for this is simply too good to be real.

The other woman tastes of the wine they’ve shared, and Flayn drinks deeper than any of her swallows thus far. She could do this for hours; she had no idea that simply kissing someone could be this lovely, but now she never wants to do anything but kiss Hilda Valentine Goneril ever again.

Flayn whimpers, her lips parting ever so slightly to let the sound escape, as Hilda places her hand on her thigh. It doesn’t move, does not roam or search; nothing that would be improper, but the little bit of extra contact is enough to drive Flayn mad with longing.

She returns the gesture, hesitantly placing her palm on Hilda’s own leg. Hilda does not startle, she doesn’t move, but she does give Flayn a small, pleased hum as she quests forward with her tongue. Flayn’s mouth opens slightly to allow her in, and Hilda deepens the kiss without hesitation.

If their kiss had been intoxicating thus far, the impassioned heat with which Hilda kisses her _now_ is positively incapacitating. Flayn cries out softly as she hears the wine bottle clunking down onto the bench. Hilda’s other hand comes up to Flayn’s back, caressing up and down, tenderly, as she swipes her tongue slowly across the inside of Flayn’s mouth.

In moments, Hilda pulls back with what Flayn can only assume to be a reluctant need to breathe, and though she finds herself immediately missing the contact, she sucks in a deep breath as well. The two of them watch each other, starry eyed, cheeks flushed, panting lightly, and Flayn lifts a hand up to touch at her own lips, right where Hilda’s had been moments before.

Hilda gives her a cocky smile. “Well? How was that? I hope it was as least as good as the wine.”

Flayn is still breathless, and she nods. “Yes. Yes, that was far better. I…think this may be my most wonderful birthday ever, and that was most certainly my favorite present.”

Her friend’s grin goes wicked. “Well, you’re in luck, cause it’s a gift I can keep on giving.”

Hilda leans forward again, and Flayn can think of nothing in the world she would ever want more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you liked it! Thanks to the fabulous [Jan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/pseuds/whaleandjanuary) for beta reading this one for me. It was a surprise, so I can't have the recipient beta for me, obviously!! Go read some of Jan's stuff; she is TRULY phenomenal and I am flattered to be considered her peer.  
> If you'd like to come have a drink with me on twitter, find me [@spiderlilywrite](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite) and have a wonderful day!


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